The Way You Make Me Feel
by PicklesandPancakes17
Summary: Falling for the intense boy, Austin Moon wasn't in her plans. Yet she can't deny how alive she feels when he's near. Even as common sense implores her to stay away, her body begs her to get closer. RATED M FOR MATURE SCENES AND SEXUAL CONTENT and cursing. Full summary inside... DON'T LIKE DON'T READ
1. Chapter 1

The Impact Of You

**Summary:**

**Falling for the intense boy, Austin Moon wasn't in her plans. Yet she can't deny how alive she feels when he's near. Even as common sense implores her to stay away, her body begs her to get closer.**

**Austin, numb from his own family drama, has grown bored with weekends fueled by nameless girls and countless bottles when he meets Ally. Helping her cope with her past is better than dealing with the bullshit his own life's served up. Determined to drive away the painful secret she's guarding, he appoints himself her life coach, and challenges her to new experiences. Getting close to her and being the one to make her smile are simply perks of the job.**

**Rated: T/M for mature scenes and sexual content in later chapters.**

**A/N: Hey everyone ! Well this is a new story I am starting and I hope you guys like it and well the character are a little OCC (not so much anyway) So ENJOY!**

**Disclaimer : I do not own Austin and Ally**

Chapter 1

_Ally_

Thirty minutes into my first high school party, and I'm ready to smack someone in the face with a shovel. My first problem is that I'm wearing the most ridiculous shade of pink. Trish's doing , of course. Tugging at the end of my shirt, I plaster a fake smile on my face and try to act as if I own this new look. Compared to Trish in her tight jeans, low-cut leopard print top, and sexy three-inch heels, I look _cute _in my pink outfit. And I hate that word. Cute is what you use to describe a teddy bear or a three year old, and it only demonstrates that I don't belong at this party filled with gorgeous half-dressed girls grinding on the dance floor. _Fuck my life._

Sighing, I push a chunk of hair behind my shoulder and take another sip of the now warm beer in my hand. Trish thrusts her arm around my waist, bumping her hip against mine in time with the music. I smile at her attempt.

"Need more to drink?" she asks above dance music.

I look into my still full red plastic cup. "I'm good." I hate the taste of beer, but manage to take another sip. Tonight was all about blending in. And something tells me being the stone-sober girl with a perma-frown etched into her face isn't the way to do it.

Trish and Dez are convinced this will be my year. They have grand visions of me loose and carefree, thriving in the High School social scene despite the contrary evidence I'd presented them as a junior last year. When they'd dressed me in this pink top earlier – which Dez claimed was actually _rosy coral – _they'd declared me a ripe peach, ready for the picking. I'd barely kept the scowl off my face at the euphemism.

"Mancandy, two o' clock," Trish announces over the music.

I take my time, subtly turning in the direction she indicates. A group of three guys stand talking near the DJ and, honestly, they're all cute. Either that or my mind won't let me distinguish individual features since my body has no plans of getting involved with anyone. Ever.

" Which one?" I ask, playing along with Trish so I don't disappoint her yet again. I know I make a terrible wing-woman. Dez fills the role a heck of a lot better than me. A fact he's super proud of.

Trish glances at the group of high school boys.

"The pretty one."

_Pretty?_

Dez steals a glance at the group of guys too.

"Damn, that boy is fucking delish." He shakes his head.

"Major player, though." Trish rolls her eyes.

"The pretty ones always are," Dez added.

I can't resist looking again for this so-called pretty boy, and when I do, hazel brown eyes meet mine and he zeroes in on me with smirk. His lingering gaze rakes boldly over my body, and I feel the nervous lurch of my stomach. The sights and sounds of the room fade away. Yeah, he's pretty. That's the only way to describe him. He's roughly six-feet tall and muscular. His hair is a gorgeous beach blond, and his eyes are such a beautiful shade of brown with golden specks around them. Not to mention the ridiculously long eyelashes that I'd be happy to murder him for in his sleep.

A warm tingle creeps up my chest. It's a decidedly unwelcome feeling and I swallow a large gulp of beer hoping to extinguish whatever the hell that sensation was. I want to look away, but I can't. He has on dark jeans that fit his frame perfectly – slouching a bit on his hips but held in place by a worn leather belt. His T-shirt is plain and red. I like that he isn't overdressed for this thing, like some of the other gel-haired, button-up-shirt-wearing guys circling us. His hair is rumpled and swept just the right way over his eyes. I have the urge to brush the stands out of his beautiful eyes. Or use it to tug him in to kiss me. _Where did that thought come from?_

His eyes stayed locked on mine. One corner of his mouth pulls upward. _Crap. _He caught me staring. I can feel my fake smile wavering. As my cheeks heat up, I look down at my feet that are squeezed into Trish's heels. He has to know how gorgeous he is. Guys like him always do. And he is firmly in male-model territory, so he can't fault me for looking.

"Come on, Ally, dance with us. You're being a downer," Trish whines. When I blow her off a second time, she gives up and drags Dez to the center of the living room. She sways and grinds to the beat, obviously hoping Pretty Boy will notice. They gesture for me to join them, but as much as I love them both, this is so not my scene. Sometimes I wonder if I cling to them because their flamboyant personalities mask my non-existent one. I watch them shimmy and shake for a few minutes before sneaking another glance at Pretty Boy in the corner.

He's still watching me, so I give him my best attempt at a smile. I'm pretty good at hiding that I'm wounded, that my life blew up in a spectacular scandal my sophomore year, and that I still walk around fearful what happened that night will be uncovered. I hold the I-could-care-less-smile in place. I'm just a regular high school senior in a hideous pink shirt. Move along folks. Nothing to see here.

My cheeks still burn and my heart pounds in time with the music. _It's too damn hot in here. _Too hot to be wearing jeans and a three-quarter sleeve top. Pushing a damp tendril of hair from my face, I pull a breath into my lungs, It only confirms what my body already knows. Even with the show going on in front of him, Pretty Boy is still closely watching me.

The way his eyes lock on mine from across the room holds the promise of something much more intimate than two random partygoers. His deep hazel gaze penetrates me and eats away at the calm, cool demeanor I fight to maintain. He looks at me like he knows me all too well, like he sees an imposter. Maybe it's because he's hiding something too. His friends laugh around him and while he looks on bored and unimpressed. I snap my gaze away.

Guys like him bug me for numerous reasons. I hate his overconfidence and the way he's completely ignoring the girl grinding up on him. Like he couldn't be bothered to pay attention to anyone he deems unworthy of his affections. _Cocky bastard. _If he doesn't want her he should send her on her way, put her out of her misery. Blond bimbo or not she's still a person.

Watching the poor girl conjures up memories I can't deal with. I hate that I was once that girl. Pretty Boy continues to rake his gaze over every inch of me. Well, if this jerk thinks I'm an easy conquest, he's sadly mistaken. Lifting my chin, I avert my gaze and force my smile to remain in place. I throw a glance at Trish and Dez who are full-on impersonating Lady Gaga at this point, and deciding my friends won't miss me, I make my way through the crowd toward the back door. And freedom.

**A/N: And first chapter is DONE. I hope you guys liked it! Don't forget to review… **


	2. Chapter 2

The Impact of You

**A/N: Wow 17 reviews on the first chapter. You all are amazing.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Austin and Ally.**

Chapter 2

_Austin_

The blond skims her nails over my chest and lowers herself down until her face is level with my groin. She bites her bottom lip and blinks up at me seductively. Too bad this is doing absolutely fucking for me. I attempt a smile, but my face feels tight and unnatural. I grip her arms and haul her up, bending to whisper near her ear. "Sorry, baby. Not tonight." Disappointment crosses her features, but she nods, and walks away.

A year ago this would have been my favorite way to spend a Saturday night. Girls? _Check. _Drinking? _Check._ Raging party with my friends? _Double Check. _Not so much anymore. I don't miss drinking too much and waking up next to someone I can't remember.

But the main reason this holds no appeal? I was plastered the night I got _the call_ from my dad last year. I had to wait until morning before attempting the three-hour drive home to see my mom, all pale and gray in that hospital bed. After spending a tortured night, shattered without anyway to fix it, drinking becomes a far less important priority.

My best friend Dallas leans over. "Damn man, you don't even have to try. It's like you set off some radar that attract them. Come. Fuck. Me," he says in a robotic voice.

I shove his shoulder. "Shut up, you know it's not my fault."

"No, the superior genetics bred into you by the Congressman and MILF ensure you get ass easily and often." He shakes his head. "Fucking lucky bastard."

I chuckle, brushing off his comment. The truth is I didn't ask for the attention, and I rarely sleep around anymore. But I'd earned my reputation during my freshman and sophomore years banging pretty much every girl in sight. And now I don't do much to dispel the rumors. It's nice, though, not be on the outs with one guy or another in the house because of whose girlfriend or sister I'd slept with. I'm actually enjoying the reprieve.

I look up and spot a pretty dark-haired girl in the corner. She isn't dressed like the other girls here – her tits and ass aren't on display – and strangely it makes her even more attractive. Her eyes widen and she forces a smile. It's obvious this isn't her scene.

I take comfort knowing I'm not the only one faking it tonight. She's not the type of girl the old me would've bothered with. Meaning her panties aren't ready to drop to her knees at my command. But somehow that only makes me more interested. She tugs at her pink shirt, looking ready to flee.

"Just wanted to warn you. . . Cassidy's here and was looking for you earlier," Dallas says.

_Shit fuck. _"Just what I wanted to deal with tonight. Drunk Cassidy." Sloppy Cassidy, crying Cassidy, horny Cassidy, take your pick. She's usually at least one, if not all of the above.

"You guys broken up again?"

"For good this time."

He raises his glass in mock salute. "Stay strong, man."

I plan to. We've broken back and gotten back together so many times, I don't know which way is up with that girl. We dated for a year. Why? I couldn't tell you. I never liked her personality, but I did like her body. Still do, if I'm being honest. And she always shared that with me freely. But hanging out, listening to her talk about inconsequential bullshit. . . gah, even the sound of her voice gets on my nerves.

I glance around the room, looking for the pretty dark-haired girl again. Not spotting her, I lean back against the wall so I can see into the kitchen. People fill pretty much every square inch of the kitchen, living and dining rooms – the only rooms we keep unlocked during parties. And the line for the bathroom is too long, so she couldn't have gone in there. Considering her friends are still dancing in the center of the living room, spilling bear onto our already disgusting carpeting, I know she's not far. That girl looks far too innocent wandering around the house alone. _Damn_. I hand Dallas my beer and go off in search for her.

I step onto the back deck and, and it's so dark out, I don't see her at first. The moon is just sliver and she's facing away from me, sitting on the bottom step. Ombre brown hair cascades over her shoulders, falling nearly to her waist and blending in against the dark sky. Her back stiffens at the sound of the music flooding the peaceful night. I close the sliding glass door behind me, muting the noise but not blocking it out completely.

She turns and catches my eyes. Her expression isn't the reaction I'm expecting. She seems mildly annoyed. . . bothered by my presence. It's not the usual effect I have on females.

'You shouldn't be out here alone." I take a step closer.

"Why, are you planning on trying something? Because I can scream really loud."

The old me would've made some comment about getting her sexy ass in my bed to see exactly how loud I can make her scream, but somehow I know she's not looking for me to be that guy. It's refreshing. I move closer to her into the col night air, relieved that I don't have to put on the smooth guy act.

"Can I join you?" I ask.

She eyes me carefully, her gaze lingering a moment too long. For a second I wonder if she's going to say no. I cant remember the last time a girl said no to me. She chews on her lip, trying to read me, and then clasps her hands together in her lap. "You can stay, _if_ you behave yourself."

I chuckle softly. What was she expecting me to do? She either has major trust issues, or she caught wind of my reputation. "Do you have a mace on you? Maybe a rape whistle tucked under your shirt?"

Her eyes narrow slightly. "Ha, ha," she says dryly.

I sink to the bottom step beside her and suddenly question what the hell I'm doing out here with her. This girl is sure as fuck too sweet for me to mess around with. But I know that isn't what I want tonight. If it wasn't, I'd be upstairs in my bedroom with the blond from earlier.

"I'm Austin." I extend my hand toward her.

She looks at it, but makes no move to give me hers.

"I'll just call you Whistle if you don't me your name." **(A/N: Whistle because I just think its funny.. haha)**

Her eyes are still blazing on mine as she straightens her shoulders. "If you're trying to pick me up, save us both the time. My answer's no."

My shoulders vibrate with a soft laugh. "Pretty sure of yourself, aren't you, Whistle? I wasn't going to ask you out, but your little speech was cute."

She fixes her mouth in a tight line. "My name's Ally."

Ally, it suits her. The name is pretty, and unique – just like her. Her makeup is natural, subtle compared to the high sheen gloss of the blonde's lips from earlier. She's pretty but not overdone.

"I haven't seen you here before."

"That's because I don't typically come to these things."

She picks up her cup of beer, but doesn't drink from it. It's like she needs something to do with her hands. I know the feeling. I feel oddly clumsy and unsure around her – not something I'm used to.

I don't need to ask why she doesn't come to High school parties. It's obvious this isn't her scene. "Do you need another drink.?"

She shakes her head. "Who am I kidding? I'm not going to drink this." She dumps the contents of the cup into the grass before setting the empty cup beside her.

'Not a fan of beer? I think I could find you something else if you want it. . ."

"I'm not a fan of drinking, really." Her voice is soft, like there's some faraway memory pulling her attention.

Now that I've turned to face her, I can't look away. Her eyes are a mesmerizing brown and her hair is ombre colored with beautiful curls framing her face. She has soft, delicate features, a full mouth and pretty doe eyes. She's lovely.

I drag a hand through my hair and turn away because I can't seem to stop fucking staring at her. _Stop being a creep, Austin. _Instead I look out into the backyard littered with red plastic cups, beer bottles and cigarettes butts.

"Why not?"

"It makes you do stupid things," Ally says after several long moments.

I simply nod. She has no idea how close to home that statement hits. Did she do stupid things in her past, or is she basing that on the actions of the people inside?

"Why are you out here?" she asks.

"I needed some air. What about you?"

"The same, I guess." She attempts a smile, but I can tell she's just as out of practice at it as I am.

There's something sad about her eyes, and it makes me want to kick the ass of whoever put that look there.

Was it some drunk jerk that hurt her? Maybe that's why she doesn't like alcohol.

She looks back out at the yard and releases a deep sigh.

This girl is different, and I'm completely thrown off my game. But I kind of like it. She refuses to drool all over me, and I respect her for that. I hate when girls who know nothing about me act as if we're freaking soul mates. It's such a turn off. But Ally seems different. I want to know her.

_Ally_

Austin remains silent beside me, and I can sense there's something more on his mind than just escaping the party inside – only I have no idea what it is, or why he's chosen me as company. I grin to myself thinking Trish will be proud that I'm out here talking to the Pretty Boy. And handsome, he is. It's almost too much too handle having him this close and personal. He smells freakin' incredible too, like a hint of vanilla and a trace of laundry detergent. I want to bury my nose in his neck and inhale, get closer to that delicious scent. Of course I do no such thing.

"What's the most interesting thing about you?" he asks suddenly.

I am _so_ not telling him that. Is question is an odd one, but I go with it. "I was adopted."

"Really?" His gaze flicks to mine.

Whenever I tell people, their eyes light up in wonder, like I'm suddenly special, different. I don't know if they expect me to be from some cool foreign country, or maybe have celebrities as parents, but the truth is nothing like that. "Not from anywhere interesting. Just Colorado."

"That's cool. Have you ever been back to visit?"

"Nope. My dad wanted to take me there as a graduation present, but I don't know . . ." I shrug. "I'd convince them I didn't want to go. I actually did. Desperately. But I felt guilty for wanting to. They got uncomfortable whenever I bought up anything about my birth mom, as if they weren't enough for me." I finish. I have no idea why I'm unloading all this on a guy I just met. It seems Pretty Boy possesses the rare ability to coax the truth from me. Not good.

To his credit though, Austin doesn't react at all to all of this. He just nods and continues picking at the fraying string on his jeans, like he's listening thoughtfully, both to the things I'm saying and what I'm not saying.

The truth is I've never met my birth mom, but I'd always wanted to. Depending on the mood I was in, I would picture my mom as a writer like myself , or during tougher times of dealing with my adoption a homeless bag-lady.

My first impression of Pretty Boy Austin when I watched him inside with the blond was that he was your typical party-loving popular boy. Now, watching him silently pick at the hem of his jeans, I'm not so sure. He seems more comfortable sitting out there sitting out here in the dark than being inside with his friends.

"So, what's the most interesting thing about you?" I ask. Returning his strange question. He chuckles softly, the timbre of his deep voice rolling over me like a seductive wave. "Hmm." He considers my question for a moment, looking up at the sky. "I don't know. But I kind of want to find out you know?"

I nod. What a pair we make sitting out here alone in the dark. I'm running from my past, and he's trying to discover his future. Either way, it seems we're both over the idea of pointless partying. As the bash rages on inside, I find solace in the knowledge that I'm not alone.

_Austin_

I need to direct the attention back to her before I day something stupid. And the way her brown doe eyes gaze into mine, who knows what I could admit to if pushed. "So why are you really out here hiding?"

Her eyes flick nervously to mine, like I've uncovered some big secret. Only I have no clue what it is. Ally straightens her shoulders and lets out a sigh. "I'm not hiding. I just needed a break."

She acts like being at a party is work, but I can't argue. I'd rather be out here with her too. For a moment she watches me from the corner of her eye. Rather than stare at her like I want to, I continue picking at the blade of grass I've pulled from the ground.

"Why are you bored with life?" she asks.

She has no way of knowing the truth behind her words. Before I can respond, the door opens behind us, blasting us with an unwelcome wave of music. Ally and I both turn to see who's interrupted or hideout.

It's Dallas. _Shit._ He staggers toward us, his eyes dancing between me and Ally with interest. "Cassidy's looking for you," he announces.

I cringe as Ally's eyebrows raise, no doubt wondering who Cassidy is.

"I'm busy right now."

Dallas continues, "Come back inside, man. I need you to divert some of the pussy you attract over to me." He takes a deep chug from his cup. "Hell, I'll even take your leftovers." His eyes dart to Ally's. "And considering this one's still talking to you, I'm guessing you haven't fucked her yet."

Ally cringes at his words, and in two seconds flat I'm on my feet.

_Ally_

Austin stands suddenly and shoves a hand against his friend's shoulder, hard enough to knock him back several steps. "Go back inside, Dallas. Drunk ass," he mutters to himself.

Dallas drags himself back inside, but his visit is a wake-up call. I really shouldn't be sitting alone in the dark with a guy I don't know. A guy who, according to his friend, definitely knows his way around a vagina.

That's the last thing I need. When I stand, I see disappointment cross Austin's features.

"I'm going to go," I say.

He nods and watches me leave, his hands fisted tightly at his sides.

Back inside, the heat and music are too much. I find Trish and Dez where I left them in the living room, still dancing, only drunker than before. I tug on Trish's arm. "Hey!" I shout over the music. "I'm ready to go."

She's stops dancing to frown at me, but doesn't argue. "Okay." She grabs Dez's hand. "Dez, come on!"

He grins, as easy easygoing as ever, and follows us to the front door. I steal one last glance behind me and spot Austin situated on the couch, a different blond perched in his lap, his hands by his sides, doing nothing to stop the lap dance. His expression is bored, and when his eyes find mine, he frowns.

"Let's go." I tug Trish, more forcefully time, and we head out into the night. I hate the feeling of Austin's eyes on my back as I retreat. I hate that I thought we shared something outside.

When we reach Trish and I's apartment, Dez follows Trish and me into our room, which has become a common occurrence. He decides to sleep over and Trish and I really don't mind and since he drunk out of his mind, well… you know. I kick off my shoes and fall into my queen sized bed. I'm ready to crash, not used to stating up so late, but apparently Trish and Dez are still in the dancing spirit. Trish turns up the music and they begin rehearsing the dance they've choreographed for _Call me Maybe._ Even though I've seen it a million times, it still makes me laugh. God, I love these two. It's times like this I wonder, why can't I just hide in my bubble? I have the two best friends a girl could want.

What's so wrong with being a careful senior who's best known for turning her homework early? Or the girl who's always around on the weekends in the library curled up in a corner with a really good book? But the question is. . . do I want to change my reputation? I've worked hard to earn it – to say under the radar. And I know if I jump onboard with the Trish school of crazy, all that would disappear.

I replay my conversation with Austin over in my mind. What was it about him that felt so familiar?

Trish prances over to me, lip syncing with gusto. "_Here's my number, call me maybe."_

My mouth curls into its usual crooked grin, watching them sing their hearts out. Once the song is over, Trish removes her bra from under her shirt and thrusts off her jeans. She has zero modesty – in front of me, Dez, or anyone really.

Trish is my opposite in every way. I wear my hair loose like a curtain to hide behind. Trish's is long and curly and beautiful. She's also blessed with a flawless olive complexion, while I'm pale. Our boobs? Hers fit politely inside her shirt, two nicely rounded lady bumps. Mine? Not so much. My boobs and I have never gotten along. Mine spill over a C, but I refuse to buy a bigger size, so I've taken to wearing sports bras exclusively since last year. Though it's not because I care for jogging. They're just more manageable this way. Of course Trish had a field day with that information, outraged that I'd taken to keeping my lady parts strapped down. She even tried to get Dez involved in making a case to free my boobage, to which he replied, "Eh. I could take them or leave them. But I have heard guys like those things." We all cracked up laughing, and that was pretty much the end of that conversation.

Trish flops down onto my bed, forcing me to scoot over.

"Did you have fun tonight, Ally?" Trish asks.

I nod. "Yeah. It wasn't that bad."

She chuckles. "If there's no one who interested you at that party tonight, you've got bigger issues than I can help you with."

"There was someone," I admit, my voice tiny.

"Who?"

"His name is Austin."

"Austin Moon?"

I nod sheepishly.

Her eyes fly to Dez's, which are just as wide concerned. "Oh honey," he frowns.

"What?" I ask, keeping my voice level.

Trish rolls her eyes and lets out a huff. "Dez." She motions for him to explain, anchoring a hand on her hip. Uh-oh, this isn't good.

"How do I put this. . ." He taps his index finger against his chin, his expression grim. "He's a shark, babe. You need a guppie."

I frown. Was Austin a shark like they thought? After talking with him on the deck, I didn't think so. But then I remembered the large-chested girl who planted herself in his lap minutes later. Her breasts weren't bigger than mine, but she had no problem putting them out there in people's faces. And Austin did nothing to remove her from his personal space.

Trish pats the top of his head. "Well said, tootsie roll."

"Relax guys, not like I'm gonna do anything about it."

Trish's eyebrows dart up. "Baby, you wouldn't even know what to do with a guy anyway."

I don't argue. I don't tell her she's wrong. It doesn't matter because it's not like I'm planning on getting involved with anyone. Especially Austin. Getting close to people means ruining the risk of exposing my past. And that is not okay with me. Not even Trish and Dez know, God love'em.

"Night guys." I flick off my lamp, plunging us into darkness and curl onto my side, letting the numb feeling overtake me. I can't believe I'd opened up to Austin tonight – thinking we'd shared some sort of moment, telling him about my adoption. That was dumb. No sense in getting my hopes up about Austin, I was safer alone anyway.

**A/N: Woo this was a really looong chapter hope you guys enjoyed**

**! **


	3. AN

**Ok hey guys listen this is not an update this is just a something I have to tell you guys . Now you know how I have been writing this story as Austin and Ally and the gang in high school right? **

**Well I can't keep writing them in high school so I kind of want to write them in college instead and honestly that's how I should have started so this is what I'm going to do.. And you guys have to vote ..**

**Option 1… keep the story as it is with them in high school..**

**Option 2… Delete this one and re-upload it with them in college instead.**

**So you guys choose the one you want and that's what I'll do.**


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N: ****Hey guys I'm back sorry I couldn't update fast enough but living the college life ain't easy.**

**So I noticed that by majority of the votes you wanted me to continue the story with them in college and that was actually my third option but it seemed to have slipped my mind. So that's exactly what I'm going to do I'm going to continue the story with them in college.**

**For those of you asking, NO Dez is not gay. I know it may seem like it but no he's not he just has a gay roommate that's why he sleeps over with the girls at times. The girls DO have their dorm which they share so there's no confusion there. I know I said it was an apartment but I switched it to dorms cause you know they're in college haha.**

**Oh Yeah! I decided to change the name of the story because I don't know I just feel that a lot of things are going to happen which I won't say and you'll just have to find out! **

**So enough rambling lets continue with the story. **

**One more thing.. Austin lives in a KAAPA house if that's what you call it.. It's one of those Delta houses and he lives with many boys from the fraternity.**

**Austin's POV**

I hadn't expected to see Ally again, which is why the flash of brown hair leaves me momentarily stunned. Seeing her in the daylight, I realize she's even prettier than I first realized. But as quickly as I spot her, she's gone – diving for cover behind a dumpster. "Ally?" I round the corner and see her crouched down, knees drawn up to her chest.

Her eyes dart up and meet mine and she lets out a soft groan. She doesn't say anything, just remains hunkered down next to the dumpster. I hold out my hand, offering to help.

Her gaze lifts from mine, searching for something in the distance before she takes my hand.

"Why are you hiding?"

"I wasn't," she says quickly.

I lift one eyebrow. I can feel her hand trembling in mine.

"Can you just get me out of here?" Her voice has a raspy, pleading quality to it that I can't refuse.

"Where do you want to go?"

Her gaze darts behind me. "Anywhere but here."

Sadness flickers in her eyes and instantly I know I'd gladly fuck up whoever had hurt her.

"Come on. If we cut through there," I point to a trail at the edge of campus, "my house isn't far."

She nods, and glances at behind her once more before following me.

I have no idea what spooked her, but she's pale and jittery, like she might dart away from me at any second. I'm not sure why, but I can't let her do that. I reluctantly release her hand, but she keeps pace beside me. "Do you have a class right now?" I ask, needing to break the silence.

She shakes her head. "I'm done for the day."

Damn, only eleven in the morning and she's done for the day? I don't take classes that start before noon.

When we reach the Delta Sig house, she hesitates at the front door before stepping inside. It's trashed, as usual.

"This is weird – being in a frat house during the light of day."

I smile. "Come on, I'll show you around."

"How many guys live here?" She follows me through the living room. There's a random dude sleeping on the couch, and Ally looks slightly concerned at this, but continues past him.

"Um, sixteen, I think. The house is just for the juniors and seniors." We stop in the kitchen and say hi to Elliot and Ethan. I figure if I introduce her to a few of my roommates – witnesses – she'll be more comfortable following me up to my room. Of course I don't like the way their eyes travel over her sleek jean-clad hips, visually molesting her. "Come on." I take her hand again, which has become a natural reaction to her even though I've always hated holding hands, and guide her to the stairs.

She stops cold at the bottom of the stairs, her eyes full of questions. I turn to face her, resisting the urge to brush the strands of hair back from her shoulders. "I pretty much only hang out in my room. The rest of the house is nasty."

She smiles crookedly, unable to disagree that my house is disgusting. "Okay. But no funny business."

"Right. Unless you initiate it, in which case I make no promises to stop it."

She swats my arm. "I won't be starting anything, so don't you worry."

She follows me upstairs, and I'm glad she can't see the dumbass smile planted on my face. She's not at all like other girls I hang out with, and I like that. We climb the three flights of stairs in silence and when I push open the creaky door to the attic, Ally steps around me to peek inside. Taking the unfinished attic meant I had my own room. It didn't matter that I didn't have heat or air conditioning, I had my own space.

I watch as she takes in the queen sized bed, neatly made in cream and nay bedding, desk and chair in the corner, a tall dresser and my acoustic on a stand in the corner. The room is large and open, with dark plank wood floors and beamed ceilings. It's freezing in the winter and stifling hot in the summer, but it's September, so for the time being, it's perfect. "What do you think?"

She wanders over to my desk and looks at the corkboard above it where I've tacked various photos, quotes, and clips from magazines. There's a photo from last summer of me and my mom at the beach - before she went cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs – and another of Dallas and me having an impromptu jam session.

Ally points to the one of my mom. "You look like her. Same eyelashes."

"I know." Everyone always freaks over my eyelashes for some damn reason. It's embarrassing.

Then she turns to survey the rest of my room. "You make your bed?"

I nod. "Habit I guess. I had to everyday growing up. It was the one chore I had to do, and my mom would freak if I didn't."

She bites her lip, trying not to smile.

"Come sit down." I slide her backpack from her shoulders and set it on the floor. She sits on the edge of my bed, while I pull out the desk chair for myself. "So, are you going to tell me what you were hiding from?"

She looks down and the terrified expression on her face is back.

_Shit fuck._

"Hey, I'm sorry. It's okay." I hold my hands up in surrender. "You don't have to tell me."

She swallows, the tension in her shoulders dissipating slightly as she draws a deep breath. "Thanks."

"For what?" I pull the chair closer to where she's seated on the bed.

"For being cool with my . . . crap." She twists her hands in her lap. " I guess I expected you to be different. The Austin Moon I've heard about is a major player and always. . ."She pauses, biting her bottom lip.

"Always what?"

Her cheeks blush the prettiest shade of pink. And on her fair skin, there's no denying her embarrassment. "Horny," she finishes.

I crack a slight grin. "Well that part's true, babe."

Her eyes widened just slightly.

A sudden knock on my bedroom door interrupts our silence. "Hey man," a muffled voice calls through the door. It's Dallas. I'm sure he's been told that I'm up here with a girl, so there must be a significant reason for him to interrupt.

"Come in."

His gaze registers Ally perched on the side of my bed like she's ready to bolt, but his eyes slip past her to me. He doesn't recognize her from Saturday night. Not surprising, given he was drunk off his ass.

"Cassidy's here," he says.

Ally's head turns to me, clearly wondering who Cassidy is.

"I'm busy."

Dallas chuckles. "Come out and deal with her pretty ass."

"Fuck man, tell her I'm with someone."

You know she'll just wait. That girl's got no shame."

Damn he's right.

"Okay, tell her to come up."

**A/N: And that's the end of chapter 3! Copy and paste your favorite line ( I love to see them) and I hoped you enjoyed it. **

**What will happen when Cassidy arrives? Find out in the next chapter of "The Way You Make Me Feel." **


	5. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thanks for the review guys **** Now that I finished my ENC1101 class for the semester I'll probably have more time to write ****.**

**Ally's POV:**

Hiding behind that dumpster seemed important at the time – I couldn't have someone from my past spotting me, so I'd dived for cover. But now, awaiting someone named Cassidy, I question what in the hell I'm doing in Austin's bedroom. This isn't me. I don't follow guys home. I certainly don't make myself at home on their beds. And now clearly he has a girlfriend, which makes me look like an even bigger idiot.

Dallas leaves and Austin makes no move to explain. Since it's too late to escape, I wait. A few seconds later, we heard footsteps climbing the stairs to the attic.

A petite girl with long blond hair rounds the corner and her megawatt smile fades as soon as she sees Austin isn't alone.

"Oh. Hey, Austin," she recovers and leans down to plant a kiss against his cheek.

God, could this be more awkward? I want to die.

Austin, having perfected his bored-with-life look, nods once at her and then flicks his gaze to mine. "This is Ally. Ally, this is Cassidy."

Cassidy turns, but her smile was only reserved for Austin because it fades as she takes me in. There's something she hates about me being up here with Austin, and the inner bitch inside me enjoys that fact. This girl just reeks of fake, and I'm instantly not a fan.

"I didn't know you had someone over." Cassidy's voice goes soft as she turns to Austin.

"Well, I do. Did you need something?" His voice is cool, unemotional.

Damn. This can't be his girlfriend. Otherwise, he's a real asshole. Of course I'm dying to know who she is, but I won't ask. Not sure I could handle hearing that right now. Austin has treated me with nothing but kindness and respect, and I sort of want to continue thinking the best of him.

"No. Just wanted to say hi." Cassidy lifts one shoulder then drops it and I can't help but notice the way her chest sticks out when she does. The move is practiced, beyond obvious. God, this girl is annoying me in all of thirty seconds. Before the awkward silence has time to fully descend on us, Cassidy bounds over toward me. "You look familiar."

My heart stops.

Literally ceases to beat in my chest.

I hope to God she has no idea _why _I look familiar. I pull in a breath and shrug, working to convince myself it's just a coincidence. She can't know.

Desperately needing to change the subject, I ask, "How do you and Austin know each other?"

Austin answers. "Ex-girlfriend."

_Oh._

"Yeah, some days I'm his girlfriend, some days I'm. . . what am I exactly, Austin, on those nights you call me and beg me to come over?"

"You wish, Cassidy."

She laughs, her mouth curving into a victorious smile. "Kay, Austin."

My stomach cramps.

Austin rises from the chair, watching her with guarded eyes, like she's a wild and unpredictable animal.

Cassidy laughs again, nervously this time. "I can see you're trying to impress your new friend, so I'll go."

His jaw tenses as he bites back whatever he wants to say. He steers Cassidy by the elbow toward the door. "Ally and I need to study."

Cassidy pouts but lets him guide her out into the hall.

Once the door is firmly shut, I look at Austin. "Are you sure it's okay I'm here?" I ask.

He laughs uneasily and crosses the room toward me, "You're saving my ass right now. So thank you."

"How?"

"By helping me get rid of Cassidy. She'd hang out all the time all afternoon if I let her."

I rise from the bed, wondering if he doesn't want company and I should head out too. "Oh. . .did you want me to. . ."

His firm hands on my shoulders stop me from going any farther. "I want you to stay."

The warm weight of his hands is a constant reminder that I'm not as immune to his charms as I'd like. I smile up at him like lovesick fangirl. _Idiot. _I silently berate myself that I've joined the Austin fan club. "Okay."

"Sit. Stay. Get comfortable."

I sink down to his bed once again, chemistry crackling between us, no matter how much I might want to deny it. "Okay."

"I've got music homework I could do. And you can hide out here, so just relax, alright?"

I want to ask him more about Cassidy, but that may lead him to ask why I was hiding, so I zip it and relax on his large queen-sized bed. It's much more plush and comfy than my narrow rock-hard mattress back at the dorms. Mmm. His bed smells like him. It's a scent I instantly decide could be bottled and sold.

Austin turns on soft music and grabs his textbook and a stack of papers from the desk, balncing everything on his lap so he can face me. I grab my book from early childhood development class and bravely settle back against his mountain of pillows. My eyes dart up to Austin's but he doesn't seem to mind in the least that I've commandeered his bed. In fact, I swear there's a hint of a smile tugging his lips.

"So what's your major?" he asks.

"Music. What about you?" For some reason I expected him to say, _undecided,_ but he surprises me.

"Music too. Mostly because it pisses my dad off."

"What do you mean?"

He grins. "He's the owner of a mattress store and wants me to run it once I graduate from college. He's always been obsessed with me owning the store since I was younger . . . so of course he wanted me to major in business."

I nod. My dad's didn't really care what my major was.

And when I told them I wanted to work in the music field, they helped me research for a music program.

"It was either that or something with engineering, since I'm shit at computers and just okay at building, I figured music was a safe bet."

"Do you at least like your classes?" I ask.

"Yeah, turns out I love it. Music is the most interesting thing to me, the passion, the lyrics, singing in front of everyone is an amazing rush." He said with a glint and a slight smile in his eyes. Hearing him talk like that made my heart swell because we both have the same passion for music although I had stage fright I pretty much overcame it considering I had to audition to get into this school.

"Did you succeed at pissing your dad off?"

He nods. "Oh yeah. He blew a gasket."

We both smile. Why do I get the feeling that Austin is letting me in on things he doesn't normally share? And why do I like it so much? I focus on my book for a few minutes, but reading about attachment disorder is pretty dry, and Austin's mouthwatering goodness is right there on display. It's hard not to sneak glances at him from time to time. A tiny crease marks his brow as he concentrates, and he lips move when he reads – something he makes look both adorable and sexy at the same time.

"So, Cassidy's really your ex?"

"Yeah. But she doesn't act like it. And of course my frat brothers give me shit about it all the time."

It's clear she'd like to take a ride on Austin, ex or not. Hell, maybe she still does, like she implied. I force my eyes back to my book and relax I into the inviting bedding. After a few moments of trying my damndest to read this textbook, I feel Austin's eyes on me again.

"Do you ever think about meeting your. . . um, the lady that gave birth to you?" He asks, his brows pulled together.

"My birthmom?" I was used to teaching people the correct terminology. He nods.

"Yeah. All the time, actually."

"So why don't you?"

I shrug. Lots of reasons. I'm not sure how much I should tell him, or how much he really wants to know, but Austin is leaning forward on his elbows, like he's genuinely interested. I don't typically talk about this stuff. But I trust him enough to let him in, which is odd given that I've only known him such a short time and everyone has warned me about him. "Now that I'm nineteen, I can go and get the records from my adoption without my dad needing to sign off. . ." I release a slow sigh. It's something I've thought about doing so many times, yet some unknown force holds me back.

"It's not a big deal. I'll figure out what to do eventually," I add, hoping to lighten the moment.

"Well, let me know if I can help," he says softly.

"Why would you do that?"

He shrugs. "Why not?"

I'm genuinely baffled by his interest in helping me. I know I'm not the best company, only Austin doesn't seem to mind. That's probably because he doesn't know much about me. I duck my head at this realization, drawing my chin to my chest. " You wouldn't like me if you knew more about my past."

He doesn't press for details. He just remains quiet and reaches for my hand. "I doubt that could be true. And besides, I have waay more baggage than you, so we're good."

Yes, but his reputation is out in the open. He isn't hiding behind a curtain, waiting for some horrible big-reveal like I am. Austin is still watching me and his soft expression sends a warm tingling through my chest. I have no idea why it is that Austin Moon – reported manwhore – would have this effect on me. Yet I can't deny that he does. Which is exactly why I'll need to be extra careful around him.

I blink my eyes open to find Austin standing above me. "Ally, wake up. You fell asleep." His hand on my shoulder gently rouses me. What? _Noooo. _I shoot up in the bed, stunned and bleary-eyed. I fell asleep? This is so not me. "I should go." I leap up from the bed and grab my backpack, hefting it up over one shoulder. "Do you have class?"

Austin casually looks at his alarm clock. "My music class started twenty minutes ago. I didn't want to wake you,"

_Oh._ "Austin, don't skip class for me."

Austin steps closer, closing the distance between us. I have to crane my neck to look up at him, and my pulse spikes at the sudden closeness, "It's okay." He straightens the backpack straps, his hand lingering on my shoulders. "This was more fun."

What is okay about any of this, I have no idea. His gaze lingers on mine. I should move away, but I won't. "Can you afford to miss class?"

He lets out a short laugh. "I'm not dumb, Ally. I had a near perfect grade-point average last semester. And it's only the second week of class. It's fine."

My expression gives me away.

"What? Not what you expected?"

I turn and flee without another word, needing to use my body for something useful like descending down the stairs so I don't do something stupid like lift up on my toes and kiss him like I want to. Once we reach the front door, Austin grabs my backpack, halting my escape.

"Hey, stay out from behind the dumpsters, okay?" He brushes loose strands of hair back from my face, tucking them gently behind my ear.

"I'll try."

When I get back to the dorm, Trish shoots me a suspicious glare. "Where were you all afternoon?"

I casually set my backpack on my bed, my mind grasping at a possible explanation. Knowing I'm horrible at thinking on my feet, I break down and admit I was with Austin, making it sound like we casually ran into each other – which we did. And going home with Austin then was just a no brainer.

When I spotted Brooke Valentine earlier, I knew I needed to get out of there before a panic attack took over. She didn't look dangerous, with her frizzy brown hair and faded yoga pants, but she was. She held a link to my past. She knew the secret that I've worked hard to ensure didn't follow me here, didn't own me. And I know, given the chance, she's open her fat mouth and blab. It's too juicy secret not to. Couldn't have that, so I dove behind the nearest obstacle I could find – which happened to be a dumpster. I was shaking when Austin found me.

But Trish doesn't need to know about my dumpster diving adventures. I also fail to mention the nap I'd taken in his bed. That would send her over the edge. No, that little detail will need to remain between me and him, as would the fact that his pillow smelled like a mix of fabric softener and cologne and I could have easily taken it home to enjoy nightly. That detail definitely doesn't need to be shared with anyone. Not Trish and certainly not too-hot-for-his-own-good Austin.

**A/N: Here's chapter 4! It wasn't really as good but you did get to find out who Ally saw and Hid from. So review and Copy and paste your favorite LINES! **

**Peace Out Suckas!**


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hey guys! So to someone who asked in the reviews if Ally was only dreaming about meeting Cassidy, no she wasn't dreaming. I had put a line to change the scene but apparently it didn't show but that part was suppose to be a line break where it was a few hours later and Ally woke up in Austin's room how it's said. So yeah, she just fell asleep but still met Cassidy.**

**Thank you guys so much for the reviews you guys rock.**

_Austin's POV_

I crank up the radio and settle back as the flat highway stretches before. Having already missed my afternoon class yesterday because of my soiree with Ally, I take off for home, driving three hours just to check on my mom. I never used to bother going home much my first two years away at college. But a suicide attempt changes things. I won't be able to relax or focus on class until I see her with my own eyes.

When I arrive, my dad is immediately in my face, provoking a fight that nearly leads to blows. He treats her like shit, and I've had with him. But I try to focus on the fact that she seems to be doing better.

It's a quick trip – I take her out to lunch and we just talk. Sometimes I worry she doesn't eat enough, especially when my dad is out of town, which is often. With no one there to cook for, I have a feeling she just doesn't eat. It's just more than just taking her out to lunch though; I need to check on her, to make her she's okay. I don't know if I'll ever forgive myself for not realizing how close she'd been to checking out. It makes me realize I can't take her for granted.

_Line Break_

Settling into the drive home, I should make it back in time for my human sexuality class, the class I've most been looking forward to this semester. Professor Mike's infamous lectures have generated plenty of buzz on campus over the years. It should be an easy A, and of course features my favorite topic – sex.

One hand rests on the wheel while the other tugs restlessly through my hair. I can't stop thinking about Ally. Spending time with her yesterday was. . . unexpected. Her being comfortable enough to fall asleep in my bed? Shocking. And sexy.

I remember her skittish reaction when Cassidy said she looked familiar. She looked like she wanted to dive for cover under my bed. Between hiding behind dumpsters to being terrified of my none-too-bright ex, Ally is a mystery. She's like a scared little wisp of a girl I want to coax out of her shell.

Even I'm not sure of my own motivations since I doubt she'll ever be one of my conquests. Which I both like – and don't. She's definitely tempting, with soft curves that fill out her jeans, long wavy brown hair, and especially her wide chocolate brown eyes and soft mouth. _Shit. _I'm going to give myself a hard-on if I'm not careful.

I pull into the campus parking lot just as my class is starting. I'm going to be late. Finding the lecture hall a few minutes later, I pause at the doors to look for an empty seat.

Professor Mike is tall, bald headed and is pacing the front of the room. The room is full and silent, aside from him. He pauses just briefly as his gaze meets mine, then he returns to lecturing – making a point about society and self-image. I zero in on an empty seat in the back of the room when movement catches my attention. A flash of chestnut hair streaks through my vision and makes my heart gallop. _Ally. _

She sits several rows up and her cheeks blossom when she meets my eyes. I can't help but smile at the sight of her. I maneuver between the rows of seats, and a few nasty looks later, I'm in the chair next to her.

"Hey Whistle."

She rolls her eyes before facing the front once again, but the little curve of her mouth tells me she's happy to see me. That little curve shouldn't make me feel so good.

I lean closer to whisper near her ear. Traces of strawberry shampoo greet me. "What'd I miss?"

"I didn't even know you were in this class. You weren't here last week."

I liked that she noticed that. "I was gone last week - had to check on my mom," I whisper back.

Her eyebrows draw together and then she turns to the front of the room again. I can't help but notice she already has a full page of notes scrawled neatly across her notebook and is nervously bouncing a chewed, tattered pen in her hand. Abandoning my inspection of Ally for the moment, I tune in to our lecture. Mike is a lively speaker, and it's easy to lose yourself in his words. I pull out the syllabus I printed from online and follow along the second week's lesson: You – A Sexual Case Study. Oh yeah, this class is going to be awesome. And Ally's faint blush during the lecture makes it hard to focus.

Professor Mike's pacing leads him to the side of the room where Ally and I are seated. He pauses in front of us, pondering his next thought. "I've structured this class to allow you to explore your sexuality after finding that many of my students received abstinence-only education in high school." A few people look at each other, wondering where he's going with this lesson, when he continues. "Abstinence is often not the reality in college, or in high school for that matter. To remedy that, we'll explore gender roles in society like it says on my syllabus, but we won't just pontificate about these topics as obscure things unconnected to who we are. You'll explore your own sexuality through a weekly journaling assignment."

He passes out stacks of small black notebooks to everyone seated in the front row. The notebooks begin making their way around the room as everyone takes one.

"These are your journals. And to get you started, I'll provide the topic for your first journaling assignment. Turn to the person next to you. Doesn't matter if it's a member of the same or opposite sex."

I turn to face Ally. Her cheeks were rosy before, but now she's blushing like crazy and he hasn't even given us the assignment. It's so damn cute.

"Open your journal. I want you to check out the person across from you." A few soft laughs erupt in the room. "No talking," Professor Mike reminds us.

I remain silent, slouched in my seat, and take in Ally's stiff posture. If this is a study on the other person's comfort level of sex, Ally will win for most uncomfortable. She looks like she's about to flee the room. Why did she even sign up for this class? It's a voluntary elective.

Professor Mike explains the journaling assignment. He's looking to make a statement on positive self-image, self-love. Getting young woman to see themselves more clearly, accepting, boosting self-confidence, both inside and the bedroom and out; and getting young men to take note of more than what's underneath their clothes. My eyes flick to Ally's. She's tuned in to his every word. Even I have to admit, it's an interesting assignment.

The topic of our first journaling exercise is what we find appealing, beautiful about the opposite sex. A few snide comments and laughs circulate the room, until Professor Mike redirects us to think about the uncommon body parts, like hands and eyes. Then pushes us to go one step farther. He approaches me and Ally again, stopping in front of our desks. When he asks us each our names, Ally's blush deepens again. He's going to use us as an example in front of the class. I don't care; I just don't want him to embarrass her.

Professor Mike turns to Ally. "You'll partner up and take note of each other's characteristics. For example, Austin's hands. . ." He encourages me to lift them for the class to see. I hold them out in front of me awkwardly. "He would make a good provider with those strong hands."

Ally's pretty brown eyes follow my movements and remain on my hands even after I've lowered them to the desk.

Professor Mike returns to the front, leaving Ally and me alone. I don't care that we are in a room full of people. She's fucking turning me on.

Being able to check out Ally for the sake of school work is an amazing thing. She bites her lip and begins jotting something down I her journal. I wish I knew what the hell she was writing. Is it the thing the Professor said about my hands? Somehow I doubt it is. Her gaze rakes over my jaw, down my chest, to my biceps, and it's driving me insane.

Each look is like a caress. It hits me like a jolt. I can practically feel her undressing me with her eyes. _Shit._ Who is this girl? She's innocent and sexy all at once, and I know I'm in trouble. My heart is pumping fast, and I feel myself getting hard.

I flip open my own journal, needing a distraction. There are so many things I could write about Ally, but staring sown at the blank page, I'm unsure where to begin. I've never kept a journal, but I have a feeling writing about her will be easy.

I take a deep breath and try to focus on the non-traditional body parts like Professor Mike reminded us. That way I'm not the perv staring at her tits. Which are exceptionally nice, I quickly note. Her head is still tipped down, so hopefully she didn't notice my indiscretion. Damn, she's writing a freaking novel. Is there really that much to say?

I swallow and focus on my notebook, finally writing, _Her soft skin – it makes me want to protect her. _I close the book before she has the chance to see what I wrote. God, I sound like a pussy.

I lean closer to Ally, and she slams her journal closed. But not before I see that she's written an entire page about me. Wow. "Had a lot to say, huh?" I whisper, offering a weak smile. She makes me feel so unsure and alive all at the same time.

She just shrugs, trying to downplay the assignment. But I can't. There's something happening between us. And I want to explore what it is.

"Do you have class after this?" I ask.

"No. Why?" she whispers back.

"Come get coffee with me." It's not a question and Ally just nods before turning to face the front of the room again.

The rest of the class drags by, as interesting as the topic is. The soft, feminine scent of Ally distracts me. Once we get outside, I wait for her to come up with an excuse, but she doesn't She walks by my side, her eyes looking everywhere but at me. And really that's all the encouragement I need.

**A/N: Chapter 5 done! Copy and paste your favorite lines! **** Thanks for reading.**


End file.
